


A Life is a Whisper

by Lalaith_Quetzalli



Series: Time River [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banshee Lydia Martin, Family, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Gen, Mage Stiles Stilinski, Nemeton, POV Third Person, Pre-Season/Series 01, Sheriff Stilinski Feels, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Witch Lydia Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 15:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith_Quetzalli/pseuds/Lalaith_Quetzalli
Summary: Back in time, and over a year earlier than planned, Stiles and Lydia have to make the hard choices on the best ways to keep those they love safe, even as they wonder about their once pack.





	A Life is a Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are! The second part. Several of my readers hoped for things that I'm afraid I cannot deliver, doing the story the way they wished would be too hard, and I'm afraid I would end up giving you all more of the same, the kind of story that's been written time and again. I try to give my stories new twists. So I decided to go at this in a different way. Yes, some of the things were inspired by other fics I've read, but some are still my own ideas, I hope you'll enjoy.

**A Life is a Whisper**

When he first wakes up, for a moment all he can think about is his bed, and the sun slipping through his open window, which he forgot to close after slipping through sometime during the night. He was an idiot, going to Lydia Martin's 'Start of the Summer' party, despite not being invited; thankfully he wasn't quite idiotic enough to go in, it would have been awful if Jackson and his jock-friends had thrown him out, again… It made him wonder at times how someone so beautiful and genius like Lydia can date such a prick… no one can argue her beauty, and he knows she's a genius, he can remember the first time she was in his class, after skipping a year, even if apparently no one else remembers that.

He's still half lost in such thoughts when he raises his left arm to cover his head (because he's too lazy to even think about getting up and actually closing the blinds or something) and then he notices the mark running down the length of his forearm… or no, not mark, a scar… a scar that looks as if he'd slashed open his arm, to commit suicide or…

"Shit!" He screams as he sits up abruptly.

It comes to him like a bucket of iced water: Lydia, the Nemeton, the ritual, the hunters, a phial, blades, bullets, blood, Derek…

"Derek!" Stiles screams next.

He rushes to his feet so fast it's no surprise he's tripping over himself and crashing loudly against the floor just a second later. It's probably a good thing his father is off at work, otherwise he'd have already gone into his room, gun in hand; Stiles is making such a racket the Sheriff would think someone's killing him!

And then there's knocking on his door.

Stiles doesn't even think about it, half tripping over his own feet and still wearing last night's clothes he rushes to the front door and opens it wide without even asking who it is… it's Lydia. Lydia, looking as perfect as always, with her long strawberry-blonde hair (which actually looks somewhat dull compared to the bright red it was when at her full-power, before she decided to dye it in order to better hide from hunters), in a skirt, blouse, heels… it's actually as he's staring at her long tresses that he realizes his beard is gone and his hair has become much shorter, the buzz-cut he used to favor in early high-school… Early high-school?!

"What the hell?!" He cries out, not quite able to process what's going on.

"Good, you're awake." Lydia states, walking right in. "Since this insane plan of Peter's worked we need to begin planning exactly what we're going to do now…"

Stiles isn't really listening to her, mortified as past-him would have been by that (outright horrified that he'd ever be able to ignore anything the amazing Lydia Martin could say… then again, that old version of him hadn't really known Lydia, or even himself for that matter). There's one thing he just cannot stop thinking about, his mind going into a crazy loop as his eyes remain fixed on the calendar hanging from the wall right in front of him. The calendar announcing it's June 19th, a Saturday… he just finished with classes the day before… which should be obvious considering he was thinking about Lydia's party just before everything hit him, but in the shock of realizing he truly time-traveled he somehow… forgot.

And then he realizes something else: it's June 19th, 2010! That's a whole year earlier of even their most optimistic plans! Never mind the Alpha Pack, Scott isn't even a werewolf yet, Peter isn't an Alpha, because it's months before Laura even drops by!

"How the hell did we make it back this far?" He finally asks out-loud.

"No idea." Lydia sniffs, honestly affronted that there is something she doesn't know. "The only thing I can think of is Derek, when he fell onto the Nemeton…"

Stiles feels close to sobbing at that. That's one image he'll never be able to get out of his head, it'll probably give him nightmares for ages: Derek dying before him, and Stiles unable to do a thing, to even give him any comfort… though what comfort was there to be given by that point?

"He was poisoned, then got shot and stabbed by those hunters." Lydia goes on, forcing herself to remain objective. "His own three-fold-death. I think the Nemeton took the sacrifice and it allowed us to draw on more power, to come back further."

"What do we do now?" Stiles finally asks, feeling so incredibly small in that moment.

He's done so much, survived so much… yet in that moment he's no idea what to do… at all. They planned to travel to the past, yes. But the plan basically consisted on arming themselves, recruiting Derek, Peter and perhaps even Scott, Issac and the Argents and storming the old bank during the closest new moon so they might get Erica, Boyd and Cora… also, if they were very, very lucky they might have even been able to take one or even two alphas out at the same time. They wouldn't have expected a banshee, and especially not a mage of Stiles's caliber. It would have worked out… they'd have made it work out.

And now they're back a whole year early, and Stiles has no idea what to do…

"That's what we gotta decide." She announces.

**xXx**

They don't decide right away, not until almost the end of the month. And even then the one thing they both manage to agree on is to keep Scott from becoming a were, if they can.

"He was never happy as a werewolf." Stiles murmurs to himself.

"He loved all the pros and never stopped complaining about the cons." Lydia scoffs.

"But what about his asthma?" Stiles asks next. "I mean, I know you never knew Scott well at this stage. His asthma is bad. Like, really, really, bad. It could kill him, bad."

"I've thought about that." Lydia nods. "We could heal him."

"What?!" He certainly isn't expecting that.

"You do remember I'm a genius, right?" She smiles mischievously at him.

"How do we do that?" He wants to know.

"You leave that to me." She replies.

She's definitely the genius. She knows it can be done. It's not anything the FDA would approve, but it's not like she plans on asking for permission, or even let anyone know they're doing it. The McCalls can see it as a freaking miracle and be done with it, as far as she's concerned.

"What about Peter?" Stiles asks next.

"What about him?" Lydia inquires, on guard, like she always is when it comes to the zombie-wolf; Uncle Creeper, as Stiles sometimes called him.

"Well, he's still in the hospital, in a coma." He reminded her.

"Precisely, he's in a coma. We're not doctors Stiles. I mean, I'm fairly confident I can cook up something that will help with McCall's asthma. I know enough about herbs and magic and everything else… but Peter's an entirely different matter. At this time he's in a coma, horribly burnt and insane."

"Actually, it's not quite that simple. No, listen Lydia, listen. I know you never researched pack dynamics like I did."

"They weren't my concern. It's not like we ever were a true pack… not after Derek lost his original Alpha Spark anyway."

"Perhaps. But a lot of it I'd already researched by that point and… you know I can never leave things unfinished. I needed to know, needed to understand. If only to see what it was that had gone so wrong with us all. If it was really all Scott's fault…"

"And Deaton's…"

"Yeah, him too. But it wasn't just them. It was… it was all of us Lydia. Derek didn't know how to be an Alpha, he never learned. And Peter… well, we both know enough about how his stint as an alpha went. And that was on Talia. She never taught anyone but Laura how to be an alpha… and I'm not even sure how much she might have taught her, considering the first thing she did was abandon two thirds of her pack!"

"What?!"

"Exactly. That's my point. With Laura being the alpha, she was the center of the pack-bonds. Think about it, who survived the fire? It's wasn't just Derek; there were also Peter and Cora. The first thing Laura did after becoming Alpha was put Peter in that clinic and then she left, she abandoned her beta, her uncle… She shouldn't have done that. And… well, I actually cannot know for sure that she knew Cora was alive. Though everything I've read on the topic tells me she should have been able to sense the bond existed, even if she couldn't be sure at first who it belonged to. She must have known there was pack elsewhere, and she ignored that. She only took Derek with her."

"And it's not like she ever did much to help him."

No, she didn't. They are both painfully aware of that. All the guilt Derek carried… it's clear Laura never sat him and talked to him about the tragedy, explained to him that it wasn't his fault at all. And for that matter, how the hell did Talia not know what was going in her own house, her own pack?! First with Paige and the way that particular story ended, in tragedy; and then Kate. Stiles is almost inclined to believe that as wonderful an alpha as Talia might have been (according to what others have said, Satomi Ito and Deucalion included), she was a shit mother.

"Anyway," Stiles forces himself to focus. "Pack is important. Laura's biggest mistake was abandoning pack, whether that was just Peter, or Peter and Cora. Pack is more than just family, the way we humans understand it. It's… the bonds, they bring peace, they anchor their wolves, and they Help Heal."

"You want to give Peter a pack." It dawns on Lydia right then. "No, you want us to be his pack. You think that if we become his pack he will heal, not just physically, but mentally."

"I think it's worth trying."

Lydia purses her lips. She has never said it, but the truth is that she pretends to hate Peter more than she actually does. Either that or she hates more the fact that she understands exactly why he did the things he did, knows herself well-enough to accept she'd have done the same; that, she hates more than Peter himself. Also, she cannot forget that the man, the wolf, died so they'd live, and it wasn't just about his daughter and nephew, it was about them too: about the Sheriff, and Stiles, and her…

"Very well." She agrees after what seems like forever. "Lets do this."

It's not really as simple as they make it sound, but in the following days Stiles convinces both Melissa and his dad that he wants to be a volunteer at the hospital, that it's something to do and will look good in his college applications when the time comes. Since he's barely sixteen there's not much they can have him do. He's mostly made to help with simple things like delivering food trays, glasses of water and ice-chips, clean bed-clothes and towels when they need to be changed. It's not great, but it's enough, it gives Stiles an excuse to be at the hospital for hours every day; and he always finds an excuse to drop by Peter's room.

Eventually Melissa catches him, but that's alright, because he and Lydia had a story ready.

"Well, you know how curious I am." He excuses. "And I've been reading on all sorts of stuff. I read somewhere that it helps people in comas when you talk to them, or read to them and I thought, hey! Why not?"

"So you've been coming to talk to him?" Melissa wants to confirm that what's happening.

"Seemed like a good idea." Stiles shrugs.

"Why him?" Melissa insists.

"Because he doesn't have any visitors." The boy admits very quietly. "I've been paying attention. All the other patients in this ward… they have someone who comes at least once a week. I have yet to see anyone come visit him."

"He has a niece and nephew." Melissa reveals softly. "Though only she comes, once or twice a year, and never stays long. Talks with the doctor in charge, makes sure everything is up to date, and then leaves again. I don't think she ever talks to him, not really."

"So… is it okay if I keep doing it?" Stiles asks after what seems like forever.

"Yeah," Melissa decides after a moment. "You go ahead and do that. Who knows? It might even help him a little."

It's clear she doesn't really think it'll change much, if anything, but that's just fine with Stiles. He has enough belief all on his own.

Lydia doesn't always join him, but he gets that too. And she's there often enough. Mostly reading the paper. Because 'if Peter is going to rejoin society at full capacity he needs to know what's happening in the world', according to Lydia. Stiles gets more personal, tells him about himself, and his dad, his mom, his dreams and hopes…

**xXx**

One thing Stiles enjoys a lot is the time he spends with Scott, his brother-from-another-mother. They play video-games and practice lacrosse and basically make fools of themselves. Stiles is a bit out of practice where his friend's asthma is concerned, but in very little time he gets back into the practice of carrying an extra inhaler and keeping a close eye on him. Lydia doesn't begrudge him that, knows how important Scott is to him. Also, she takes that time to work on the cure.

It takes six weeks for something big to change, or at least for them to notice a change. Stiles is doing his shift at the hospital when there is a rush, an ambulance has just arrived with a man in an awful condition, apparently he was driving through the preserve and somehow ended crashing against a tree.

"Did he… did he really drive into the tree?" Stiles cannot help but ask after hearing all the nurses comment on it.

"Apparently some wild animal came out of the preserve and onto the road, he lost control of his car, slamming into the tree." Melissa informs him quietly, having heard the paramedics talk about what they saw on the scene.

"That's terrible." Stiles murmurs to himself.

The man dies on the table and one of the nurses hands Stiles the bag of personal effects so he can take it to the main desk, where a deputy will pick it up. It's then that he notices the driver's license in the bag: Henry Tate. He's so shocked he stops moving for a moment.

"Did you know him?" Rona, the nurse on shift at the desk, asks him.

"I… I don't think so." Stiles answers. "The name sounds somewhat familiar but I cannot remember why exactly..."

"If you've been snooping on your dad's files, that might be why." Melissa informs him with a sharp look as she approaches. "Mr. Tate lost his wife and two daughters on a terrible car accident several years ago."

"Such awful tragedies." Rona murmurs. "First the mother and daughters, and now him… why, some might think the family was cursed!"

Stiles himself has to wonder, especially since he's quite sure Henry Tate did not die in a car accident the first time around. He, in fact, died until many years later in suspicious circumstances. They had never been able to prove it, but Stiles was sure the hunters went after him in an attempt to get to Malia, only to discover that the two of them had hardly been in touch at all since the man decided to send his adopted daughter into Eichen House. While Malia did forgive him, and never really dropped the Tate from her name, she no longer saw him as his dad, not really. Peter actually managed to take that place in her heart, if only for a brief time, before their untimely deaths… it won't come to that again. Lydia and Stiles will make sure of that.

It's Lydia who has an answer to his confusion regarding the death.

"What do you remember about this day, the first time around?" She asks him.

"Not much." Stiles shrugs. "Most of the summer was pretty much the same. I spent time playing with Scott, would go for drives to kill time, that sort of thing."

"Did you ever drive through the preserve?" She asks next.

"Often." He nods, still not understanding. "It was easier. At least there less people were likely to curse me because I wouldn't drive faster…" He understands then. "You don't think…"

"It might be reaching." Lydia admits. "But it's not actually impossible. I know you never drive fast. And if the first time around you were driving through the preserve… perhaps that kept Mr. Tate from speeding down that road, being surprised when the wild animal went past."

Stiles has no words for that. To think that changes could happen just like that. The possibility never occurred to him when he decided to do that volunteer work in the hospital. That him being there means he isn't in other places, and that's changing things, even if passively…

"I'd actually thought about this." Lydia nods. "We're changing things by choosing to be in certain places, doing specific things… but also by not being where we were the first time around."

Like him not driving through the preserve… or Lydia not spending time with Jackson and his rich friends. Henry Tate was a very graphic consequence for Stiles… and her own mother was giving Lydia hers, asking her every other day why she wasn't going shopping, or to this or that party. Like Lydia's social life meant more to her mother than herself. Lydia isn't even hurt by it, she's too used to it already.

**xXx**

Stiles is still reeling with the realization that they may be changing so much already, without even being aware of it, when something wakes him up abruptly. The first thing he notices is that it's not dawn yet, the second: that it's the 1st of August…

"Lúnasa…" The boy mutters to himself.

Of course during his studies (mostly self-taught) he learned a lot not just about magic, but also about the history and folklore surrounding it, that included the 'Wheel of the Year'. Not being Wiccan or a Witch he doesn't need to follow the festivals, his magic isn't dependent of him keeping some deity, spirits, a higher power, or whatever else might exist, happy. The magic is in him… the ritual had been another matter entirely. Breaking time… that was not something even a mage with his level of power could expect to achieve; according to legend only Merlin ever had the power to do it, and even then he chose not to. Even with how much he lost, his love included, he chose to let time follow its course. Stiles is quite sure that if the end of the world hadn't been pretty much a surety by that point, even the Nemeton wouldn't have helped him and Lydia pretty much destroy the old timeline and go back.

In any case, he knows about the festivals, though he's never celebrated them. The fact that some force has woken him on that day, before dawn… one doesn't need to be a genius to know he's being effectively summoned…

"I'm coming, I'm coming…" He mutters under his breath, mostly to himself.

He dresses in his usual clothes and sneakers. Picking up a fistful of grapes and berries from the kitchen on the way out, almost as an after-thought. His father is again on the night-shift, and as Stiles has taken to jogging early in the mornings he probably won't care about him not being in bed, even if it's earlier that Stiles usually takes off. He doesn't even bother with the jeep, it's easier to go straight down the street and into the preserve; he knows his way well enough after spending six months moving around the place, all of them doing their best to stay ahead from both hunters and the government; he could probably make his way to the Nemeton with his eyes closed (not that he's tried it, but still).

He gets there just fine, as the sun slowly begins to lighten. Drops the fruits on top of the stump and then stands back, waiting.

Stiles knows the Nemeton called him there, which means that it probably wants something from him… or to communicate something. He still isn't expecting it when a ghostly figure suddenly manifests above the remains of the tree: in a long-sleeved top and jeans, soft waves of hair falling just past her mid-back, soft features… Stiles has only even seen her in old pictures from BHHS but he has no doubt who he's looking at:

"Miss Krasikeva…" He greets her with a respectful bow.

"Mieczyslaw Stilinski." She replies, bowing her own head.

"Just call me Stiles, everyone does." He shrugs.

"Then call me Paige." She says in return. "I know who you are, Stiles. Just like I'm sure you know who I am."

"I do…" His voice turns quieter.

Of course he knows. Paige Krasikeva, high-school student, prodigious cello-player, and Derek's first love…

"The Nemeton has chosen me to act as… intermediary." She explains. "Just like It is an extension of the Mother…" She notices the fruit right then. "So you know the festivals."

"I know them, am not one to follow them, not really." Stiles sighs. "Will it be required of me now? To follow the Wheel?"

"No. The Mother understands that you are not seeking her favor. She did not send you and Lydia Martin back so you'd be one of her acolytes, but so you might have a second chance at becoming what you were always meant to become, to fulfill your destiny."

He doesn't ask her what his destiny is supposed to be, he knows better than that. Chances are that if she didn't simply stay quite, her answer would be so complex and confusing it'd end up giving him a headache and helping not at all.

"One thing you need to know, is that soon the Nemeton will be no more." Paige adds then.

"What?!" Stiles definitely isn't expecting that.

"All things come with a price. The kind of power that was needed to send your souls back…"

"We destroyed the Nemeton?!"

"Not really. The Nemeton has been mostly dead for many years now. Even my death, my… sacrifice, could only do so much. Channeling so much power… it only accelerated the inevitable. Nonetheless, while the Nemeton will be gone, the power cannot be destroyed, it must go somewhere. I'm sure you understand…"

"That's why I was summoned. The Nemeton wants me to take its place."

"It doesn't quite work like that. The Nemeton, when it was fully alive served as a focus point. Magicals from everywhere would come and pray to it, and to the Mother, to draw on her power. The ultimate goal was to gain favor from the Mother; but even She can only deliver so much power at any given time. The Nemeton gathers power, it allows more to be drawn on."

"Like a magical battery."

"That'd be an apt comparison, yes. Now, with the Nemeton gone… the energy cannot just return to the Mother, it doesn't work like that."

"Cannot it be dispersed, or sent to the land?"

"No to the first, and with the second you would run the risk of activating the Beacon. And doing so at the same time the Nemeton is lost… well, it would make it impossible to turn it off again."

"So there's no other option then…"

He knows it won't be easy, and the consequences will be long-lasting. It's not just about taking the energy offered. It's that his core will over-extend to adapt to it, and then it will stay that way. Even when he uses magic, even if by some kind of miracle (or the negative version of one) he manages to drain his core… his magic will eventually recover to that same level. He will no longer be just a mage; he will be, for all intents and purposes a Sorcerer… Some might think he should be happy, excited by the fact. But Stiles is far too intelligent to just see the good and not think about the negative. That much power, even without the Beacon, it will attract attention, good and bad. He will never be fully at peace again. But can he refuse? If it weren't for the Nemeton he and Lydia wouldn't have been able to time-travel. They always knew there would be a price to pay for the opportunity, beyond their actual sacrifice.

"What about Lydia?" He asks suddenly. "Can I share the power with her?"

"Would you want to do that?" Paige inquires.

"It's only right."

It could be useful, for both of them. Lydia has very little magic, only enough to be considered a Witch, and even then just barely; more magic at her reach would allow her to do more, even if there's no way she'll ever come close to a mage.

"It shall be her choice." Paige announces.

"Yes."

Both turn around, right as Lydia crosses the tree-line into the clearing. Stiles has to wonder if she sensed something, or if the Nemeton summoned her, much as it did him.

"My answer is yes. I want the power." The redhead states.

"This will affect not only your ability as a witch, but also as a Banshee." Paige points out. "Never again will they be able to bind your powers."

"Can I still be bound to my pack?" Lydia asks.

Traditionally banshees would be bound to family lines; but Lydia had found a way to bind herself to the pack in the other timeline, and she preferred it that way.

"Yes." Paige nods.

"Then I'll take it." She declares without hesitation.

"Then come and present yourself to the Nemeton and to the Mother." Paige instructs.

By the time the sun has fully risen Paige is vanishing, like stardust rising into the sky, finally released to be at peace on the Other Side. Lydia and Stiles for their part are left sitting on the dirt ground, panting, as their cores adapt to their new levels of magic. Lydia, who until then had been able to do some basic things easily, and spells with a lot of recitation and calling to specific spirits and/or deities to give their blessing, had gained the power to call on those same spells without so much trouble. Still a witch, but much more powerful than she'd been. Stiles for his part… he was something that had only existed once before in known history.

**xXx**

Stiles is doing a shift at the hospital, a week or so before the start of the school year (and thus the end of his volunteer work… though he's made arrangements with Melissa and Rona to still be allowed to visit Peter and read to him, with the excuse that no one else is there for him and he deserves to have someone), when an emergency patient arrives, someone he recognizes:

"Erica…" Stiles breathes out, not quite aware he's doing it.

"You know her?" Sandy, the ER nurse on shift, asks him.

"Yes, she's a classmate." He answers softly. "She has epilepsy."

"Yeah, apparently she had a grand mal seizure, her mother called an ambulance." Sandy tells him quietly as the doctors work on her.

Stiles doesn't reply. He knows grand mals are bad. It doesn't matter that they've traveled back in time so that Erica hardly knows him in the current date, that she'd been dead for years even before they went back… Erica is pack, she always will be, and Stiles reacts accordingly.

When Erica wakes up Stiles is sitting on a chair beside her bed, reading a book.

"S-Stiles?" She asks, clearly confused by his presence there.

"Hey Erica..." He greets her with a small smile. "How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" She asks instead.

"Well, I figured I'd keep Catwoman company." He answers, easy as anything.

"Catwoman?" She's clearly confused by that.

"Yeah, I figured, if I'm Batman…" He wiggles his eyebrows comically at her. "…and clearly I'm the hero in this story, I'd need a sexy villain/unexpected hero, hence Catwoman. That'd be you, in case you were wondering."

"What about your great Lydia Martin?" She demands.

Of course she's heard about his crush on Lydia, who hasn't? Then again, most people don't realize that that's not love, it never was. It's just… it's easier to seem normal when you do the things that are expected of you: like the geek having a crush on the unattainable perfect girl.

"She's of course a perfect, beautiful princess…" She begins in a theatrical tone, before adding in a more serious one: "but she'll never be mine, and I'm fine with that."

"Really?" Erica clearly doesn't believe him.

"Really." Stiles confirms. "We're friends now."

Erica scoffs, but Stiles doesn't mind. He'll prove it to her. Erica is about to become part of the pack… even if she doesn't know it yet.

**xXx**

Stiles is driving down Main Street after leaving Erica with Lydia (who just rolled her eyes at Stiles's actions and then insisted on staying to discuss fashion options until Erica's mom arrived to check on her), when he catches sight of something from the corner of his eye. He doesn't understand what he's just seen at first, and when he does he's so shocked he cannot help but step on the break, hard. He doesn't even wince at the sound his jeep makes as it stops abruptly. He's not thinking about that at all; instead all his mind can focus on, is what he just saw: Christopher, Victoria and Allison Argent moving in…

When he can finally bring himself to stop trembling he pulls out his phone and dials without even looking at it.

"What now?" Lydia asks, and he can almost picture her rolling her eyes at the thought of what he might have done, until she gets no immediate answer: "Stiles…?"

"L-Lydia…?" His voice sounds so small, he cannot help it.

"Stiles, where are you? I'm coming." She states.

He doesn't even know where he is exactly, but that's alright, the moment they got back to the past they both made sure to program an app into their phones that would allow them to track each other when necessary. It's how Lydia finds him, parked at the side of a small road, off Main Street. It's also at that point that he realizes it's getting dark… more time has passed than he thought. At least that's likely to mean Lydia didn't leave Erica hanging just to get to him.

"What happened?" She asks right away.

"I… I just saw the Argents, moving in." He forces himself to answer.

"What?!" Lydia clearly wasn't expecting that one. "What do you mean you just saw them moving in? Stiles?!"

"Exactly that. I was driving down Main Street and I saw them, outside the car, and there was a moving truck. Got a panic attack just from that."

"But… but… why? I mean, there's no Omega attacking anyone. No suspicious carcasses or deaths. We would know! And besides, this is still a full half a year early! What could have possibly happened to make them…"

She breaks off, and Stiles can tell her mind is working a mile a minute, something has occurred to her; and he probably would be thinking it too, except instead he's busy recovering from the panic attack the mere sight of the Argent family caused him.

"The one big thing we've done since we arrived, was claim the Nemeton's power for ourselves." Lydia reminds him. "The very power Deaton and Morrell wanted, remember?"

"You think one of them called them?"

"Maybe not directly, but I'm quite sure they're responsible somehow. There's simply no other reason for them to be here, now."

"We're going to have to be very careful then. If Deaton is insane enough to call the Argents into Beacon Hills for something like that… we cannot be sure what he might do if he finds out we're the ones who have it."

"You're the one in most danger."

"I'm also the one most capable of dealing with him, if it comes to that."

It's true enough, though Lydia also knows it wouldn't be his first option, not unless his family (his pack) were in danger. She can only hope it won't come to that.

Lydia stays with Stiles until he's feeling well enough to drive, then follows him all the way to his place to make sure he gets there alright, before making her way to her own place. Ignoring her mother completely when she starts on her same rant about not recognizing Lydia anymore…

Stiles cannot even think about having dinner, still too shaken about everything, so he makes up something to his dad about having eaten out with his friends and being tired. Noah looks oddly at him, knowing Stiles is lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. But the man can also see his son isn't at his best, and thus decides to let him sleep and have a talk about it later, perhaps over breakfast the next morning.

**xXx**

No one is expecting the nightmares. Even Stiles, knowing himself as well as he does, with all the traumas he knows he carries, isn't expecting for his mind to react like that. The way it mixes his memories of being beaten up by Gerard, watching Erica and Boyd chained up and constantly shocked, Allison stabbing Issac repeatedly, the Oni stabbing her, under his (the Nogitsune's) orders, Chris pointing his gun at him even as the fox dared him to shoot him.

Stiles wakes up screaming his head off.

The sheriff rushes into the room, gun in hand, seeking to save his son from a terrible danger, to find nothing but his boy sitting up on his bed, damp with cold sweat, unseeing eyes fixed straight ahead and screaming blue murder.

"Stiles!" Noah cries out in worry.

He drops the gun on his son's desk after making sure the safety's on, the rushes to his son. Stiles reacts instinctively, half of him reaching for one of his knives, under his pillow, except the other half of him has processed the fact that it's his father speaking, reaching for him, and that makes him stop. Still, the mid-motion is enough to call Noah's attention to his arm; or more precisely, to the long scar down his forearm.

"Stiles!" Noah cries out in horror. "What have you done to yourself? Why?!"

Stiles is so out of it he cannot even think about making something up.

"What I needed to do…" He says quietly. "To save you, to save everyone."

"Stiles…" The father has a hard time finding the right words to express himself. "I know you've been hiding things from me. Like the fact that you've been spending a lot of time with Lydia Martin. I was sure if the day ever came you began dating that girl I'd be the first to know! Or the second, after Scott. Never thought you would be able to keep it to yourself."

"Lyds and I aren't dating." Stiles shakes his head. "We're just friends."

Noah believes him, but he still knows the boy is keeping something from him.

"The last time, when I told you, you didn't believe me." Stiles mutters, more to himself than to his dad. "I told you mom would have believed me. And she would have! She was magic too…"

Noah sees something very clearly in that moment: he's failed his son. He's no idea when or even how, but he's somehow failed Stiles. He has to do something about it.

"Tell me again Stiles." He murmurs softly, embracing his son tightly. "Tell me, I promise I'll believe you this time. I promise son."

And so Stiles tells him. Tells him everything. He's still sleepy enough, half lost in the memory of the nightmare, the panic attack, his ever-present fear that no matter how hard he tries, how hard Lydia and he might try, they will somehow fail in the end. He cannot live with that, with the possibility of trying so hard and ultimately having to watch everything go to hell again, having to watch everyone die… he's already promised himself that if it comes to that, he'll die first. He has enough power that, if necessary, he'll put every single drop of it into making sure that his loved ones will survive the end of the very world, regardless of the consequences to himself.

"No Stiles, no..." Noah is in denial after hearing that.

Stiles blinks, finally fully awake, he realizes that not only has he just told his dad the whole tragic story of his life, but he also revealed his 'worst case' plan.

"I'll do what needs to be done." Stiles declares stubbornly.

"But can't you see son?" Noah insists. "If you do that, how are we supposed to live without you? Those of us who love you, how are we suppose to live without you?"

"I cannot do it again, watch you all die." Stiles sobs. "Please don't ask me to."

"Oh Stiles…" Noah really has no words for that, all he can do is hold his son tight and hope that, somehow, that might be able to convey all his love, his support.

Truth is, Noah Stilinski has no idea how any of the things his son just told him are even remotely possible: werewolves, witches, hunters, the end of the world?! But after hearing what Stiles said at the beginning, about Noah not having believed him, about how Claudia would have… besides, Stiles was far too sleepy to make everything up. It was too complex and specific a story for it all to be made up on the spot and… he cannot deny that his son has changed, and it's not just his apparent friendship with Lydia Martin (his once crush) or his time volunteering at the hospital. It's in the way his son no longer seems to be almost vibrating out of his skin all the time, and he's not even taking his Aderall anymore, Noah checked; and the way he moves sometimes, even the way he stands… the only people Noah's ever seen moving like that are army veterans; and if everything his son has told him is true (and there's no reason to believe it isn't, insane as the whole thing might still seem to him), he's effectively a veteran of a supernatural war.

"What were you dreaming about?" He asks eventually.

"Everything." Stiles answers softly.

He cannot believe that his dad is being so accommodating. No insults, no accusations, no denials, nothing like how he reacted the first time (before he was forced to face everything head on). He's so accepting, and still there, holding Stiles close, as if he could somehow protect the boy from everything through sheer will (and who knows? Far as Stiles knows, he inherited his gift from his mom… though that assumption comes mostly from the fact that he never saw his dad do anything remotely magical, and he's come to believe that his mom's 'green thumb' had to have been magical at least to a point, all her plats had always been just so perfect…). But even if Noah cannot really protect him, Stiles still feels safe with him, safer that he's felt in a long time. He can only thank the Mother for his dad.

"Saw the Argents moving in when I was on my way home." Stiles explains quietly. "Had a panic attack. Lyds made sure I made it back alright but still… my head couldn't let it go. I dreamt about so much… the pack, the hunters, Gerard beating me up, the things Allison did when her mother died and she went a little nuts… the nogitsune… when Allison died..." Stiles hiccups. "You know, I don't think Scott ever forgave me for that one. Or Mr. Argent… Even if Scott was already dating Kira by then, and then Malia and, and that other girl, I cannot remember her name. I don't think he ever loved any of them like he loved Allison. And she loved him too… with all her heart, she told him so, before dying in his arms. And that was my fault, it was my fault she…"

"No it wasn't." Noah cuts him off vehemently. "It wasn't your fault son. It was a terrible, an awful tragedy, yes. But it wasn't your fault. Even if it was your body that thing was using. It wasn't your mind, it wasn't your heart behind it… it wasn't your doing. You would have never done that, would have never hurt someone you loved."

Stiles can still see a sword in his hand, twisting it inside Scott's gut. It almost makes him sick just to think about it and yet… he cannot help but think about what his dad is saying. About his mind and his heart. He knows his dad means that it wasn't his doing, even if the nogitsune was in him, he wasn't the one controlling things… and yet he thinks of something else: of how through it all, the nogitsune attacked a great many people, was responsible, directly or indirectly of a great many deaths, including several of his dad's deputies, and people at the hospital. But he only ever killed two people Stiles knew: Allison and Aiden; and even them, it wasn't directly. Aside from that, through all the times he'd gone against the pack, he rarely truly hurt them. The worst had been Scott himself, and Derek a bit, though certainly much less than Scott. A part of Stiles cannot help but wonder how significant that might be, the fact that the nogitsune only ever killed or tried to kill people Stiles wasn't very close too. The closest being Scott but… if Stiles is honest with himself, so much had happened between the two of them by that point, he stopped seeing Scott as his brother at some point. It's something he's been trying to regain since getting to the past, and likes to believe he's managed it and yet… and yet a part of him cannot help but feel it won't last. That sooner or later Scott will abandon him again. And of course there's Derek, the one time the nogitsune tried to use him against someone he truly cared about… it didn't manage to do much, even if Stiles wasn't in a position to do much to fight back, still… And the people he did kill, Allison and Aiden. Hard as it might be to admit, he never fully trusted Allison after she went all crazy-hunter on the pack, refusing to see that Victoria's death was her own fault; and Aiden… he had never once trusted Aiden, not with him having been part of the Alpha pack and at least partially responsible for Erica's and Boyd's deaths (he never understood how the others could).

"Thank you dad…" Stiles murmurs softly.

Noah just looks at him quietly, not sure what exactly Stiles is thanking him for.

"For being here, for believing me, just… for being my dad." Stiles enlists with a drowsy smile.

"You never have to thank me for any of that kid." Noah assures him. "Whatever mistakes I might have made in the past… your past… the other time. I promise to do better this time around. I'll always be here for you, always, no matter what."

"I know." And Stiles really does.

No matter how complicated it might have been at first, Noah had been there for his son when it truly mattered. To the end.

"Love you dad." He adds, because if there's one thing he regretted after his dad's death it was that they didn't say those words more often.

"Love you too son." Noah replies, kissing his brow. "Now go back to sleep. I promise I'll be here with you. You'll be alright."

Stiles doesn't respond to that, he has no idea what he could say, so instead he just lays back down, curled against his dad, seeking his warmth, the security it gives him. He might be a grown man for all intents and purposes, a survivor from the honest-to-God end of the world… but in some ways he's also still a teenager, one who needs his father more than ever… and he's lucky enough to have him.

Stiles knows that they'll have to talk more later on. Explain things clearly, so his dad might be better able to look after himself, and after everyone else in Beacon Hills. If things keep changing at the rate they have, sooner or later Lydia's and his knowledge will mean next to nothing, they all have to be ready, to adapt.

But that can wait until morning.

**xXx**

Stiles is on his last day at the hospital when there is yet another rush of activity as an ambulance arrives. This time though the patient is one he never expected to see in the ER: Scott.

"What happened?!" He cries out as Melissa stops him from going in.

She was already told that she couldn't go in herself, as other nurses and doctors handled it.

"He was at the school, training, says he wants to join the lacrosse team next season." Melissa says in a watery voice, tears clogging her throat.

"But… but that's not until next semester!" Stiles cries out.

"According to him, he thought he could get a head-start." Melissa says with a shake of his head. "We were so lucky that a couple of the teachers hadn't yet left after their earlier meeting. One of them saw him and called an ambulance. Otherwise he'd have stayed there, alone, and by the time anyone found him…"

She breaks off as the sobbing starts, and all Stiles can do is stand there. Worrying over his almost-brother and wondering if it's his fault. He should have been there, with Scott, if not to keep him from doing something idiotic, then at least to help him, who knows? Perhaps he'd have been able to get him to use his inhaler fast enough that it wouldn't have gotten so bad…

He's not even aware as he dials Lydia's number.

"Yes, it's ready." Stiles doesn't ask how Lydia can give an answer before the question ever crosses his lips. "I'm on my way. You keep Mrs. McCall distracted and I'll give him the cure."

"Lyds…" He murmurs, not knowing what to say.

"Trust me Stiles, this will work." She assures him. "Now get moving. I'm almost there."

As soon as Rona can assure them that Scott is alright, the worst has passed and all he needs to do is sleep it off, Stiles convinces Melissa to accompany him to the cafeteria, she needs something with sugar to recover after the serious scare Scott's sudden arrival gave her. Rona agrees right away and promises to call them if anything changes with Scott.

Somehow Stiles manages to keep Melissa in the cafeteria until Lyds sends him a text with a single word: 'Done'. Then they're on their way back.

In the morning the doctors will do a check-up and find that Scott is much better than they were expecting. They will run some more tests and find it curious that his lungs look less bad than they did the last time they ran them. It'll be months before anyone dares to suggest that the boy's asthma might cured, some kind of miracle, they'll say (not like they'd ever be able to find Lydia's cure… or even know to look for anything). It'll take time, but that's okay, Stiles knows already that Scott will be just fine, and that's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> So... what do you think thus far? How insane are things, and Stiles ideas for making things better... There's a lot more coming, more than you probably imagine, though I'd love it if my readers would leave their ideas and predictions in the reviews/comments so I may get an idea what you would like (and to see how much I may be able to surprise you, or not).
> 
> This chapter was important for me, not just for setting things up but also because of Noah. I wanted to do something with Noah, to show how much he loves his son. That even if his first reaction the first time around wasn't the best, it was never because he didn't care about Stiles. Too much had happened by then. So now... this was the chance to show the kind of man he really is. The man who loves his son, who wishes to protect him, but when he accepts he cannot, not completely, he will instead stand by his side. Support him, be his rock. That's very important to me. Also, Noah will be an important character in the pieces to come, so this is the new start of the story for him. This is a new start for everyone.


End file.
